


Jump The Gun

by yousaidithurt



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Louis, Dildos, Louis in Panties, M/M, Rimming, Sexting, Top Harry, pwp basically, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 04:41:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4291203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yousaidithurt/pseuds/yousaidithurt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He groans in frustration, slamming his suitcase shut and maybe slamming his head against it a bit, because Harry Styles is trying to kill him, and it's all because he has a stupid fucking fetish for girls' underwear. </p><p>(or, Louis likes to wear lingerie. Harry likes that Louis likes to wear lingerie.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jump The Gun

  
The first time it happened, it was almost by accident. 

  
He'd gone shopping with Lottie and there had been a bit of a mix up with their bags. It was mostly because of the bored cashier at the shopping centre who gave them four receipts and drawled out her pleasantries - at least, when Louis was putting away his new shirts and found a little pink pair of underwear in the bottom of his bag, that's what he told himself. He left them in the bag because, after all, it was no big deal. It was a mixup, and he'd give them back to Lottie next time he saw her - or not, you know, because that was a bit weird, but. 

  
The point was, it wasn't really a big deal, and he didn't really care. But then one day he was cleaning and they slipped out of the bag, and his fingers had brushed over the soft lace, and his cheeks burned as the thoughts started popping into his head. 

  
The first time it happened, it was _because_ of an accident, but it really wasn't one.

  


*

  


Wearing them was exhilarating. 

  
His first time putting them on, he stood in front of the mirror with an air of utter disbelief, at the fact that this was him, these tanned lines and soft contrasts were _him_ , and the light pink lace just made his stomach flutter as his eyes swept over the way it clung to his thighs.

He felt almost giddy with excitement as he slipped under the sheets.

  


*

After the first time, it quickly became a regular occurrence.

  
Louis would slip into the panties, run his fingers over the intricate detail of the white lace and the bubblegum pink bow, and flush at the feeling of them against his skin. They were quite tight, and he thought over and over again how he should think this was weird, but then he would glance at himself in the mirror, all smooth skin and soft lace, and he'd forget it all. 

  
He'd wear them to bed under his jeans every couple of days, just so the feeling still stayed shockingly fresh, still got his stomach churning.

  
When they started to fray, he swallowed at the thought of not wearing them any more and pulled up a lingerie shop on his laptop. 

  
It was then that it started to become more of an obsession.

  


  


*

  


Maybe it was weird that his obsession had spun from a pair of panties to garters and stockings and suspenders, and anything else he saw and liked: from silk to cotton, thongs to briefs, pastel pink to black.   


He didn't really think so, though, and when he started to forgo boxers altogether in favour of the panties, the feeling didn't subside like he expected. There was still the thrill of knowing that underneath his jeans there was something he wasn't supposed to be wearing, and it made his stomach coil up sometimes, hot flashes of heat as his cock strained against the tight material.

  
He cleared out a section of his closet in the back and tucked them all there in a box, a secret he could cover with oversized t-shirts in case Harry decided to go rifling through his stuff looking for a certain shirt again - like he tended to do quite a lot, actually (although Louis was just as bad - if not worse - so he couldn't really complain.) 

  
It became a part of Louis' everyday life, slipping into them, and one that he liked more than he could explain. So much so that he packed a dozen or so pairs in his suitcase when they went on tour, and pulled on the stockings and suspenders when they returned to their hotel at night, watching the material slide over his thighs in the oversized mirrors opposite him and gulping. 

  
Eventually, he started wearing them to the concerts, too. It was around that time that everything started going downhill.

  


*

  


"Louis, you better not be fucking sleeping, mate," Harry said absently, pushing the door open with his hip as he looked down at his phone, tapping a text back to Liam about the club they were planning on attending, and glancing up to find him in the quiet hotel room.

  
"I'm up," Louis murmured, almost completely into his pillow. Harry huffed and stalked in further, tucking his phone into his pocket. It was almost one in the afternoon, and they had to be at the venue in a few hours, something that Louis very well knew, but he was _exhausted_. Harry plopped down on the edge of the bed, looking at Louis expectantly as he started to drift back off. 

  
"You look _so_ awake right now, yeah," Harry agreed flatly, rolling his eyes. Louis snorted and rolled over, hoping Harry would go the fuck away. He didn't. "Lou, if you don't get up in the next five seconds, I'm yanking off these covers and _dragging_ you into the shower, you lazy bastard."

  
When Louis didn't move, Harry made to tug away the blankets, and Louis' eyes shot open at that, panic surging through his body. _The underwear._ He gripped the blankets tightly and sat up, blinking sleep out of his eyes and looking over to see an entirely too satisfied Harry smiling back at him. 

  
"See, was that so hard? We're going to get lunch in half an hour, be in the lobby," he said cheerily, and then promptly fucked off to leave Louis sitting there, staring at the sheets in something like horror. 

  
Well. That was close.

  


*

  


That night, he wore his pastel blue pair with the lace up bow at the back, and tried to ignore the heat in his stomach every time Harry so much as looked at him. It was an entirely innocent encounter, and yet Louis felt like Harry had picked up his world and shaken it until it smashed into pieces. 

It hadn't occurred to him just how easy it would be for them to catch him. 

  
It didn't stop him.

  


*

  


It was another week before it happened again. 

  
They were all in the hotel restaurant for breakfast, Niall hammering on about some story Ed had told him, and Louis was spacing out as he messed around with his pancakes, thinking of the purple suspender set he'd picked up at the shopping centre in Norway yesterday, itching to put them on. 

  
"Lou? Mate, you alright?" Liam asked, snapping him out of his daze, and he looked up apologetically, shrugging it off and setting his fork down.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just gonna go back upstairs, I'm feeling a bit sick, is all." 

  
The boys murmured in sympathy and he smiled, getting up and climbing the stairs with shaky legs. When he got to his room, he locked the door and pulled the little paper bag out of his suitcase and poured out its contents, shaking off his sweatpants and sitting down. 

  
He pulled on the panties first, a thin pair of purple floral lace briefs, cut out at the back in a gaping triangle that curved across his asscheeks. The suspender belt was next; he slid it up his body, closing his eyes at the feeling of the fabric brushing lightly against his skin. The belt clipped on to his panties, in little satin lines of fabric, and he just couldn't get over the way they felt on him, the way they looked, _fuck_. 

  
His obsession was getting out of control. But, _fuck_. 

  
He stepped closer to the mirror to study the way they moulded around his skin when probably the worst thing in the history of the world happened (and Louis had had a lot of those moments, with four little sisters and a bunch of dickheads he'd called 'friends'.)

  
The door opened. 

  
He froze immediately, his head whipping around to see who it was, but he _knew_ who it was because who else had a copy of his key everywhere they went? 

  
Harry fucking Styles stood at the door, completely still, staring at Louis with wide, shocked eyes.

  
"Fuck," Louis let out, and then he was turning, heading for the bathroom and shutting the door tight, leaning against it with his heart hammering in his chest. He heard Harry shift outside, closer, maybe, and screwed his eyes shut, trying to remember how to breathe. 

  
It wasn't that he was ashamed. It was that he should be, and Harry would probably think he was a fucking freak, and okay, he was bashing his head against the wall a bit, because _fuck his life_. 

  
When he finally gained the courage to leave the room, Harry was gone, and he sunk into his bed, still in shock.

  


*

  
Louis didn't offer that part of himself to Harry, was the thing. It was hidden and tucked down under layers of clothes and layers of material, pride, shame. 

  
Shame. Yeah. 

  
Louis liked it, alright, but it was... it was his. And it wasn't something people did, it wasn't something he should do. 

  
He was afraid of what Harry would make of this piece of him that he had no idea how to control.

  


*

  
After four days, Louis realised Harry was avoiding him.

  


*

  


_**from: harry** _  
_**how long?** _

  
They were in some country Louis didn't remember the name of, some venue he wouldn't remember, in a bar eating some entirely mediocre food when the text came. Louis immediately flushed, hitting his knee off of the table, and Zayn glanced up in concern. 

  
"You alright, Lou?" he asked softly. Louis nodded. 

  
_**to: harry** _  
_**what the fuck?** _

  
At that point, the tension between them was palpable. 

  
His hands were shaking a bit, if he was honest. He picked up his fork and started to push his pasta around his plate, waiting for the buzz against his thigh with barely contained terror, or something like that. Harry had been skittish around him lately, wide eyes and dodging touches, and Louis wanted to scream, okay, because this was _so fucking bad_. 

  
**_from: harry_ **  
**_how long are you going to pretend that i didn't see what i saw?_ **

  
Louis' mouth went a bit dry, at that. He moved to reply, but before he could his phone buzzed with another message, one that made his stomach knot. 

  
**_from: harry_ **  
**_how long have you been wearing the underwear, also? is it something i missed for the past four years?_ **

  
Louis closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and letting his eyes move up to look at Harry. He was staring at him almost imploringly, his green eyes insistent, and Louis knew that he was going to lose him for this. He had to. Why else would Harry be so fucking freaked out? Jesus, he was so fucked, this was _so fucked up._

  
**_to: harry_ **  
**_i don't really think i owe you an explanation. i wear underwear. so do you, harry._ **

  
_You've also been avoiding me, you fucking prick_ , he didn't say.

  
Harry let out a little snort across the table, and Louis stabbed at his pasta viciously, feeling Harry's gaze on him again. He was _not_ looking up. 

  
**_from: harry_ **  
**_lacy panties? stockings and suspenders? bit different from boxers. but you're right, you don't owe me an explanation at all._ **  


**_from: harry_ **  
**_i'm just wondering why you ran away._ **

Why Louis ran away? He furrowed his eyebrows, confusion spreading through his veins like ice. 

  
**_to: harry_ **  
**_a couple of months is the answer to your question before. i like it, is all. and i ran away because i know i freaked you the fuck out harry okay??_ **  


Louis was frustrated, okay, and he must've let out a little groan because Zayn was rubbing his knee, smiling at him sympathetically.  


He kept typing.

  
**_to: harry_ **  
**_i was embarrassed? obviously._ **

  
There was a bit of a delay in the response, and when he finally got the telltale buzz on his thigh, his heart stopped. 

  
**from: harry**  
**god, lou, you shouldn't be embarrassed of that. ever. please don't be.**

  
**from: harry**  
**you looked so fucking hot.**

  
Louis' fork clattered to his plate, and when he looked up, his cheeks flushing, Harry was staring at his lap, his cheeks equally red.

  


*

  


In France, he was digging through his suitcase for a vest when he came across them. A pair of black panties, sheer all over with a little lace skirt and straps attached that would cling to his hips. A little bow was placed daintily in the centre, and it was so distinctly Harry somehow that Louis felt like kicking a brick wall. They were all wrapped up in a velvet bow with little pawprints scattered across, tugging an involuntary smile out of him through the _utter shock_. 

  
A little note was perched beside where they had lain, written in Harry's messy scrawl:

  
_I saw these and I thought of you. I hope that's okay._

  
Louis sat down beside his suitcase, undoing the bow and holding the underwear in his hand. 

  
He didn't really know what to do. If Harry was buying him underwear, and thought he looked hot, he couldn't have been weirded out by it. That meant he still had a best friend, and his world wasn't so dramatically over as he'd thought a couple of days ago.

  
Eventually, realising they only had an hour before they had to leave for the venue, he slipped out of his jeans and tugged on the panties, picking up his phone and snapping a picture before he could change his mind (from the utterly idiotic idea he'd had, clearly, but still.)

**_to: harry_ **  
**_(attached image)_ **

**_perfectly._ **

  


*

  


It didn't culminate that night, or the next, as Louis was expecting; it all felt entirely too passive, a mess of electric shocks up in the air that never quite hit him. 

  
Harry grabbed him at the show and sang into his ear, their bodies flush together, and then he was gone, and he didn't look at Louis for the rest of the night. That second or so, though? More than enough time for Louis to discern that Harry was _hard_. 

  
He thought about it when he got back to his hotel room, a little drunk, slipping his hand into his waistband and gripping his cock, thinking of Harry's hot breath and wide eyes and the outline of his dick pressed into Louis' back, until he came hot and hard all over his stomach and underwear.

  
Because he was drunk, and tired, and this was all very confusing anyway, he thought it would be a good idea to text Harry again. 

  
He took a quick picture of his stomach, covered in come, and the panties that clung to it. 

  
**_to: harry_ **  
**_sorry if i got them a little messy._ **  
**_(attached image)_ **

  


Harry didn't respond, but the next morning at breakfast he held Louis' eyes for a second too long and they were fucking _dark_. 

  
Louis was entirely too turned on by this situation for his own good.

  


  
*

  


A couple of nights and shows later, he found another pair, this time a soft iridescent purple that looked almost like a galaxy. He found himself so enamoured with the colour that he didn't realise they came with attached suspenders and a little mess of strings until he'd pulled them on, and when he'd sorted them out and pulled on a pair of black stockings, he was already half hard at the idea that Harry had seen these and bought them for him. 

  
He already knew he was going to send a picture to Harry the minute he saw them, but he didn't expect a response to his simple **_good choice.x_**. When he saw it, he felt a whimper escape him softly. 

  
_**from: harry** _  
_**fuck. do you know what you do to me, lou? i swear i've been half hard since i saw you in the hotel room.** _

  
He reached down, rubbing his cock through the fabric and suddenly getting an idea. 

  
He grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand, spreading his legs and letting his hand slip between, under the fabric, between his cheeks. He pulled the panties to the side and slipped in his finger, bucking his hips up a little at the sensation, and snapped a picture, sending it to Harry quickly before pressing in another. 

  
His phone buzzed in his hand, Harry's name flashing across the screen. 

  
" _Lou_ ," he breathed, when Louis picked up, setting the phone on the pillow next to him on loudspeaker. He sounded... _affected_ , anyway, and Louis smirked at the thought.  
He crooked his fingers, feeling a shock of pleasure crash over him and he keened off the bed, letting out a breathy, whiny moan. 

  
"Fuck," Harry swore. Louis kept fucking himself on his fingers, and he swore he could hear some rustling on Harry's side too. "Lou, god, I wish I could see you like this. All spread out and hard, fucking yourself, _fuck_ , bet you look so good."

  
"Want you to fuck me," Louis gritted out. "God, I get so hard thinking you like seeing me like this, thinking you get off to me in my panties. It's so..."

  
He trailed off, his breath hitching and a moan escaping loudly as he slipped in a third finger. Harry was definitely jerking off now, if his laboured breaths were anything to go by, and Louis felt dizzy with pleasure. 

  
"I'm gonna come," he blurted, wrapping his hand around his cock, and Harry moaned in agreement, his sounds speeding up on the other side of the phone. "Fuck, Harry, I wish you were inside me, I wanna feel your - ah, fuck, _Harry_ ," Louis whimpered, babbling nonsensically as he came, Harry seeming to come almost immediately after if his little growl was anything to go by. 

  
When Louis came down enough to remember they were still on the phone, he grabbed it and hung up quickly, switching to the camera to snap a picture of his current state. 

  
**_to: harry_ **  
**_(attached image)_ **  
**_shame you aren't here to lick it off of me._ **

  
Harry texts back a string of silly emojis, the tongue one appearing at least twice, and Louis laughs, chucking his phone aside and heading off for a shower.

He didn't feel nauseous by the situation any more, really. 

  


*

  


Maybe he spoke too soon.

It's. Oh, okay. It's. 

  
Louis has _no words_ for what this is. 

  
He's been staring at his bag for a few minutes now in shock, because not only is there a new pair of underwear from Harry, but there is a fucking _dildo_ in his suitcase, right on top of his Led Zeppelin t-shirt, pale pink and slightly glittery and Louis has _no fucking words_. 

  
The note attached this time is simply: _next best thing_. 

  
He groans in frustration, slamming his suitcase shut and maybe slamming his head against it a bit, because Harry Styles is trying to _kill_ him, and it's all because he has a stupid fucking fetish for girls' underwear. 

  
He's not above throwing himself out of the window, honestly. 

  
**_to: harry_ **  
**_the next best thing would be you fucking me with this dildo x_ **

  
He sends the text biting his lip, and Harry's response is near immediate. 

  
**_from: harry_ **  
**_i'll take that as a thanks. my pleasure. feel free to make it yours in the meantime ;) .xx_ **

  
Meantime. God, Harry is trying to end him. Louis opens his bag and grabs the fucking dildo - the fucking _dildo_ \- and the underwear, kicking off his jeans and shirt and slipping into the white lace, refusing to process the fact that he's already hard. He lies down on the bed, spreading his legs, and snaps a quick picture of himself in the underwear first to send to Harry. Then he grabs the lube, and. He's really about to fuck himself with a dildo because of Harry fucking Styles. Okay. This is his life now. 

  
He opens himself up slowly, working his way up to his third finger before he picks up the dildo. 

  
It's then that he decides to do something probably stupid; he grabs his phone and sets it to video, propping it up against a pillow and then lying back, pressing the dildo against his hole. 

  
When he presses it inside, he lets out a little moan involuntarily, drawing his knees up to his chest and bucking against the toy a little. He glances at the camera and, frustratedly, notes it isn't at the best angle, and moves himself up onto his hands and knees so he can at least torture Harry with his fucking ass. 

  
(He's maybe beyond sexually frustrated at this point, as well as reason.)

  
He presses it in again and drops his head to the pillow, pushing it in further and backing up against it, a little whine escaping him as it brushes against his prostate. 

  
By the time he's ready to come, fucking himself on a pale pink glittery dildo with sweat on his forehead, messy hair and precome leaking out of his tight lacy white panties, he's so gone he's babbling a mess of curses and whines, sneaking his hand around to wrap it around his cock and tug himself over the edge. 

  
He breathes once, twice, and then pulls out the dildo, reaching over to turn off the video and send it to Harry. 

  
(If Harry sends back a slew of _you little SHIT_ 's and _fucking hell_ and _i don't think i've ever come that hard in my life_ , well, he deserves it. Even if Louis' cheeks burn and he bites his lip in arousal at the thought of Harry jerking off to him.)

  
He did send Louis a fucking dildo.

  


*

  


On the last night of the tour, Louis bends over to pick up a bottle of water and Harry sees the outline of his thong. That's pretty much it, except for how all the blood seems to leave Harry's brain, and suddenly he's almost hard on a stage in front of thousands of people, and he opts to go hide behind Niall as they make their way through Rock Me. He doesn't need to see Louis thrusting into the air, thank you. 

  
Louis had sent him another video. In which, of course, he looked sinfully debauched and sucked on his fingers and then fucked himself into the mattress and Harry had nearly choked, okay, because he was sitting with Liam when the video came, and he had to excuse himself to go jerk off in the fucking bathroom to the site of Louis keening against the _dildo_ he'd bought in a moment of utterly (well concieved) madness. 

  
So, yeah, Louis was sort of ruining him, and he wanted nothing more than to pin him up against a wall and fuck him into next year.  


The last night of the tour meant a huge party, and they were all crowded together and getting colossally drunk, Louis perched on Zayn's lap as he played a game on his phone and sips a beer absentmindedly. He looked so innocent, Harry thought, and he wanted to laugh a bit.

  
In complete and utter _frustration._

  
His phone buzzed not even ten minutes into the party, when Harry was on his second beer and was talking mildly to Liam about a banner a fan had thrown on stage.

  
**_from: lou_**  
**_i saw you got hard tonight ;) want me to help you out?_**

  
He groaned a bit at his phone and wanted to smash something, because Louis in his underwear is utterly sinful and he wanted to cry because he's so _frustrated_. 

  
How long had they been sexting when they were literally ten feet away from each other? Harry didn't know what was going on, except he kind of wanted to kiss Louis until he was breathless.

  
**_to: lou_ **  
**_i saw your thong and couldn't help it. was thinking about the video.x_ **

  
Louis was grinning when Harry looked over at him. 

  
**_from: lou_ **  
**_want a live show?_ **

  
He didn't get the chance to answer, because Louis was already up and off Zayn's lap, swaggering off up the stairs to his room and Harry stared after him helplessly, his stomach twisting in anticipation. 

  
**_from: lou_ **  
**_ten minutes, curly. xx_ **

**_  
_ **

*

  


When Harry walked in, Louis was spread over his bed, his legs wide and bent, and the dildo pressed inside him, his thong down around his thighs and his cock curved against his stomach. 

  
"Fuck," Harry swore. Louis looked up at him and smirked. 

  
"Sit down then," Louis murmured, moaning as he pressed the dildo inside him. "Fuck, on the _bed_ , Harry, you utter idiot."

  
Harry moved from the chair to the bed, sitting down just as Louis pulls the dildo out and - handed it to him? 

  
"Next best thing," he reminded Harry breathlessly, and Harry's gut twisted painfully as he shifted onto his knees between Louis' legs, pulling one of Louis' thighs up onto his lap and reaching between his cheeks with the dildo. God, he was going to. _God._

  
He pushed it in slowly and Louis threw his head back against the pillow, whimpering and bucking up against it. He did that a lot, Harry noticed, and he imagined Louis on top of him, riding his cock, and he was so hard it was painful. Louis was moaning into his shoulder, his body jerking with each thrust of the dildo, his hand snaking down to wrap around his cock. 

  
Harry wasn't thinking when he reached down and slapped it away. "Don't touch," he said firmly, and Louis blinked slowly, eyes dark, and nodded, raising both of his hands above his head to grip onto the headboard in answer. 

  
Fuck. 

  
He thrust it in a few more times, Louis getting progressively more out of it, until he couldn't resist any more and pulled it out, moving quickly so he had Louis' legs over his shoulder and his head between his legs. He spread Louis' cheeks, darting in to press a kiss to his hole, feeling his entire body shake at that as he let out a loud whine. 

  
"Fuck, Harry," he cried, his legs tightening on Harry's shoulders. Harry smirked and darted out his tongue, circling the rim slowly, before pressing his tongue in. 

  
He was fucking Louis with his tongue. That shouldn't have been a surreal thought, but it really _was_ , and he was apparently pretty good at it if Louis' increasingly loud noises were anything to go by. 

  
He pulled back and looked up at Louis, seeing the boy's eyes were trained on him. "Come for me, Lou," he said, and Louis shook his head. 

  
"I want you to fuck me."

  
Harry thought he might _die._

  
"Okay, yeah," he mumbled, sitting back and tugging his shirt over his head, meeting Louis' eyes with a smirk as it landed somewhere on the floor. "Fuck, Lou." 

  
"Yeah, that's the idea," Louis groaned, grinding his hips into the mattress and whining. "Jesus fuck, Harry, just leave them on," he gestured to where Harry was sitting up to push off his jeans. "I don't care, just - please, just-"

  
Harry swallowed and grabbed the lube, glancing around half-heartedly even though he already knew the answer. "Do you have a condom?" he asked, and Louis shook his head.

  
"Fuck off, Harry, you know we're clean, get _inside_ me," he whined, grinding his hips down harshly and tightening his grip on the headboard. He looked obscene. Fuck. Harry uncapped the lube and spread it over his cock, breathing out heavily as he looked at Louis' dishevelled state. God. _Fuck_. 

  
He lined up, his hands pressed tight into Louis' narrow hips, and pushed in slowly, relishing in the deep moan that tore from Louis' throat. The flimsy fabric of the panties was brushing against his thighs as he pushed in, and he moved to reach over, his mouth hovering over Louis' neck as he bit back a moan. 

  
"Fuck, Lou, they're so..." he trailed off, and Louis met his eyes, his own blown with lust. 

  
"I know," Louis agreed. "I didn't - _ah_ \- I didn't mean to start, but they were so- _fuck-_ " 

  
Louis' body jerked with the increasing force of Harry's thrusts, his legs coming up to wrap around Harry's waist and tightening, pulling him in deeper. Harry moved his hands to clasp them over Louis' where they were lying beside the headboard, digging into the mattress. Louis whined, bucking up against him. 

  
"Do you like that, Lou?" Harry murmured into his ear, thrusting hard in accentuation. "Me pinning you down and fucking you?"

  
"Yes, fuck, _Harry_." Louis scratched at Harry's wrist a bit, as he writhed restlessly beneath him.

  
Harry grinned and mouthed over Louis' neck, biting down softly as he felt Louis clench around him. 

  
"You can come," he whispered, and not even a second later Louis was spilling over his own stomach, little breathy moans filtering out as he arched up to meet Harry's hips and then sagged against the mattress, opening his eyes to meet Harry's own, a small smile on his face, his cheeks stained with a blush. 

  
Harry pulled out and went to move back, but Louis grabbed him and tugged him forward, rolling them over so he was on top and grinning down at Harry's slightly shocked face. 

  
"I want to suck you off," Louis started, trailing his fingers over Harry's chest, his eyes watching in rapt fascination as Harry's muscles quivered beneath his fingertips. "Is that okay?" 

  
Harry nodded sharply, and Louis' face overtook in a wide grin. He didn't bother saying anything else, just moved down Harry's body slowly, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Harry's stomach, finally stopping at the head of his cock. 

  
He barely paused for a second before he took Harry in his mouth, his cheeks hollowing as he moved further down his cock, not stopping until his lips met the base and Harry was whining, grappling for the sheets, praying for his hips to still as Louis' mouth worked over him. 

  
Louis pulled back, rolling his eyes and pressing a kiss to the tip of Harry's cock. "Harry." he said, raising his eyebrows. "For fuck's sake, fuck my mouth." 

  
Harry groaned. When Louis waited expectantly, his eyes trained on Harry's, he finally moved his hips slowly, until his cock was pressed at Louis' lips. He pushed forward, almost infinitesimally, and Louis swallowed around him, his wide eyes urging him forward. 

  
Okay, so. He was fucking Louis' mouth. 

  
The heat was coiling in his stomach. He pushed forward, wrapping his fingers in Louis' hair and thrusting into his mouth, until he felt almost dizzy with the pleasure. When he felt like he was about to come, he made to pull out, but Louis shook his head in protest. 

  
"Come on my face," Louis breathed, when Harry's cock left his mouth, and it wasn't even two beats later that he was spilling over Louis' face, little droplets landing on his tongue as he opened his mouth to catch Harry's come. He swallowed, licking little drops off of his lips, and Harry honestly felt like he might die. Again. 

  
"Fuck," Harry breathed. 

  
Louis, his best friend, was on his knees in front of Harry, his face covered in Harry's come, his stomach covered in his own and his thong tight around his thighs. 

  
Holy shit. 

  
"That was..." Louis trailed off, shaking his head with a little laugh. He didn't finish, shrugging instead, and Harry agreed, because it was, whatever it was, and he grinned back and moved off the bed, ambling to the bathroom to get a wash cloth. 

  
"Where are you going?" Louis protested, not moving from his position, and Harry returned with the wash cloth a second later to a fucking heart attack, because Louis suddenly decided to lie down, and he looked so good like that, fuck.  

  
"Cleaning you up," Harry explained, and Louis offered himself almost pliantly, Harry's stomach twisting as he wiped the come off of his face and stomach, tossing the wash cloth off the bed somewhere and swallowing a bit nervously. "Louis, should I..."

  
_Go._

  
Louis knew what he meant, and shook his head vehemently, tugging Harry to him until they were laying side by side, his face stretched in a sleepy smile. 

  
"You're not going anywhere, Styles, we're not being stupid any more," he mumbled, and Harry was very, very okay with that.

  


*

  


They woke up, legs entangled, to three pairs of eyes staring at them in utter shock. 

  
At some point in the night they had kicked off the blankets, and Harry was laying naked with his body arched into Louis', his face pressed into Louis' neck. Louis was still wearing the white thong, not entirely pushed up and instead racked around his bruised thighs. The fucking dildo was on the bedside table.

  
Louis was already awake, his body stiff, as Harry slowly drifted into consciousness. 

  
Liam was the one to break the silence. 

  
"Right," he said awkwardly, running his hand through his hair and turning towards Zayn a bit helplessly. "We'll just - we'll meet you in the lobby."

  
He darted out of the room, Zayn in tow, and Niall was smirking down at them. 

  
"Congrats on the sex, you kinky bastards," he laughed, pulling his phone out and snapping a quick picture despite Harry's sleepy protests. "Fucking knew it!" he crowed, turning and launching himself out of the room, a bounce in his step Louis was a bit confused by until he heard the distant shout of, " _Zayn, you owe me a hundred quid!_ "   


He looked at Harry, his eyes glittering, and pressed a soft kiss to his chin. "He bet on us?" 

  
Harry grinned. "Yeah, well. So would I." 

  
And he tugged Louis forward for a kiss - their first kiss - and Louis felt himself smile.

  


*

  


After the tour, Louis didn't hide his underwear in the box in his closet. 

  
Harry decidedly stopped sleeping in his own room, and Louis valiantly offered him some space for his own things, to save him from making the obviously too long journey ten feet across the hall to his own bedroom to get clothes. If Louis tucked the underwear away in his box, Harry just pulled it out again, and eventually it wasn't his secret any more, it was just _his_ , theirs, scattered in drawers and wash baskets and, most of the time, their bed. He didn't feel ashamed any more, not with Harry's little smiles every time Louis pulled off his jeans or slid under the covers.

  
Harry picked him up new pairs on the road and Louis modelled them for him, laughing into his mouth as Harry got hard, every time, no matter how simple the pair. 

  
If one of the guys teased him about it, well, Harry's death glare was enough to shut him up. 

  
Louis was happy. And when his sister offhandedly mentioned the pair she'd lost after their shopping trip, one day, the guys laughed until they choked and Harry flushed furiously, refusing to look up from his jeans with a smirk on his face. 

  
She just rolled her eyes and said, "I never want to know. Ever." 

  
And that was that.

 

 

 

* * *

 

  


**Author's Note:**

> The title from this fic comes from Jump The Gun by Adore Delano (because that's a song you should totally listen to while writing smut.) 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Xx


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